


Close to Normal

by Kawaiicoyote



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, I can't tag worth a darn today, Implied Relationships, Just a little bit of Angst, Tree Houses, rare moment of peace, well they're really stuck up in the tree but shhhh it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-05
Updated: 2013-04-05
Packaged: 2017-12-07 13:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiicoyote/pseuds/Kawaiicoyote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re trapped and he feels like lodging a bolt in his forehead for putting Carol in such danger. She’s already lost so much and for him to do this to her, it makes his stomach sour.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close to Normal

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so as you can see I suck as: Titles, summaries, and tagging.  
> This is my first work in the fandom *twiddles thumbs* be gentle?
> 
> Also I own nothing!

They’re trapped and separated from the group. Carol is terrified; one look at her and Daryl knows she is. From the way the color has drained from her face to the way she’s trembling all over. His grip tightens on his crossbow but doesn’t fire. There are too many Walkers for it to be a realistic thing to do, he has to conserve.

Wildly looking around for an escape route he comes up short. The two of them are in a back yard of a cookie cutter house in a long abandoned subdivision that they happened to come across. They’d all been rucking through one house, together as a group, when the heard started to come out of nowhere. Hi first instinct had been to grab Carol’s arm and run like the fires of hell had been lit up under his ass. Only now he knows that taking off like that might as well signed their death warrant. They’re trapped and he feels like lodging a bolt in his forehead for putting Carol in such danger. She’s already lost so much and for him to do _this_ to her, it makes his stomach sour.

Lost in his thoughts he doesn’t realize she’s tugging on him until his balance falters and he stumbles.

“What woman!” He hollers at her but she doesn’t so much as flinch. Instead she hauls him around as best as her lithe little body can and jabs a finger upwards. His head snaps up and he swears he could nearly cry with relief. But his ass finally gets in the game and he shoves Carol forward.

Maybe ten feet away is a huge solid tree, but their saving grace is the simple little tree house with the only way up or down being the rope ladder that hands from the open entrance of the thing, the only door for it being an old tattered sheet of some sorts.

As one they tear off for the tree, Carol nearly stumbling in her haste but Daryl has a death grip on her upper arm, a grip that will surely leave finger shaped bruises but he’ll feel guilty for later because the most important thing is to get their asses safely up that tree without getting bit.

He makes damn sure to get Carol up the ladder first. He draws out a long knife and wields it in front of him, ready to strike at any fucking walker that dares to come at them. Glancing over his shoulder he can see how Carol has some difficulty with the rope. The winter took a toll on them all, left them weaker than they had been. She’s more than half way up but the Walkers are closing in too goddamn fast for his liking. Daryl slings the crossbow into his back and doesn’t hesitate and taking up the ladder after her.

When he’s right under her he doesn’t think about his next action he just does.

“Carol don’t kick me for this!” He barks up at her before reaching up and planting his hand right against her ass and shoves. She startles and makes some kind of protest but he shoves her harder, the muscles in his bicep straining a bit.

Her nails claw into the floorboard of the tree house and then her forearms give her enough leverage to haul herself inside. As soon as she’s in she’s wheeling around and grabbing for him. Her fingers grappling and clawing into anything she can get ahold of as she helps him inside frantically. He hides his wince when her nails score his shoulders in her haste.

Soon as he’s inside he wretches the rope ladder inside and they both fall back onto the floor, chests heaving as they draw in deep burning breaths into their lungs.

He can hear the groans from the Walkers down below. Can hear bits of bark from the tree breaking away when the Walkers try to get up it, but when minutes pass and none of the ugly fuckers are inside he’s sure that they’re safe. The tree is old and thick and there’s no chance that the heard can knock it over so he lets himself relax for once next to Carol, after tugging his bow from his back.

The silence settles over them and neither one of them want to be the first to break it. Daryl damn sure doesn’t want to break it. Because he knows the first thing that’ll come spewing from his jaws is how sorry he is to have fucked up.

He hears the tiniest laugh from beside him and then feels her hand reach out for his. His fingers reflexively curl around hers and stay there.

“You have nothing to be sorry for you know,” She says and when he turns his head to look at her he finds that’s she’s already looking at him. That calm serene smile tugging at her lips.

He huffs and turns his head back to look up at the ceiling. It’s dark inside so he can barely make it out, only when his eyes adjust can he tell it’s not wooden like the rest of the tree house, some kind of metal.  It doesn’t smell like anything died in there, it doesn’t even smell moldy or rotten. The only scent he can catch is earthy and natural and it calms him. Settles something inside of him like a cool breeze.

“I think it’s going to rain.” Carol whispers and he looks at her again. She’s gazing out the front of their little shelter. The tattered sheet is blowing in and out with the force of a breeze that’s started to pick up, giving them glimpses of the outside and of the sky that’s already turning from blue to gray to black.

There’s no thunder or lightening, just rain and a gentle wind. Daryl moves away from his mostly comfortable spot on the floor and rips off the old sheet and tosses it aside, letting in the crisp clean air and breeze that’s heavy with moisture.

He’s just laid back down when he hears Carol’s small laugh. Her eyes are shut and her breathing slow and steady, almost giving her the allusion she’s asleep but the smile on her face gives her away.

“What?” Daryl mutters, feeling a little awkward for no reason that he can think of.

“Listen,” she says quietly with the wave of a hand. So he sits up, folds his legs all pretzel like and does as she’s said. He can hear the rain pattering against the metal roof mostly. The lack of sounds from the Walkers is a good thing to him, but he doesn’t get what Carol wants him to hear.

Daryl turns back to her and she’s watching him again. She looks _different_ all of a sudden. Not as tired and weary. Her eyes hold a tiny sparkle inside of them that he hasn’t seen in months. She looks _alive_ instead of just living.

“Wind chimes.”

His brows furrow and he scratches an itch at the nape of his neck, “What?”

She shakes her head and closes her eyes, that smile still on her face as she folds her arms behind head. “I can hear wind chimes outside.”

Daryl can’t help but grin at her. Instead of laying back down he moves to sit by the door and pulls his knees up, rests his dirty chin on hi even dirtier pants and watches her rest.  Damn, she looks so much younger when the hell their living in isn’t making her so stressed out.  She looks beautiful.

“I used to have wind chimes, before all this happened.” Carol’s voice snaps him out of his little daydream. Her eyes are still closed but she keeps talking to him. “Ed _hated_ them and I think I put them up mostly for spite at first, but then I found out how relaxing they were. I’d go outside and sit for hours on the back porch swing just to listen to my wind chimes.”

She sighs, like she’s caught in a rare good memory. Her smile is contagious and he finds himself outright smiling too instead of his grin.

A stronger breeze flits through the door and Carol shiver catches Daryl’s eye.

“Cold?” He asks though he doesn’t really have anything he can give her as a proper cover.

“It’s fine,” She immediately responds. Just like Carol to make herself seem like a burden and try to not ask for anything. He rolls his eyes and giving into himself he slinks his way down onto the floor next to her and lies on his side.

Carol’s eyes fly open in surprise and they both hesitate. They’re so close to each other, at most an inch apart. They’re so close he can feel what little body heat she has radiate against his skin. She shivers again and he raises his eyebrows.

Slowly she turns until she’s facing him. He doesn’t hesitate after that. His arm comes down around her and pulls her close to him, her head cradled on his other arm that’s wrapped under her.

It’s awkward at first but soon he finds himself actually relaxing. Between the cool breeze and the natural heat they’re both creating he finds his eyes drifting shut, Carol’s already shut again and her breath slow and even with sleep.

He’s just on the cusp of unconsciousness when he hears it. Over the pattering of the rain, he can hear the tiny din and clanking of the wind chimes. They’re so quiet and peaceful. He can understand why Carol likes them so much.

With his eyes closed he focuses on the weight of Carol next to him and the sounds of the rain and the chimes. Daryl can almost pretend that things are normal. That the world hasn’t gone to shit and that below there are no Walkers.  

In his head he lets himself pretend that it’s just him and his woman catching a late afternoon nap after a long day of yard work.  It makes his chest ache with a type of pain he’s never felt before, makes him curl closer to Carol and hold onto her tighter.

He realizes that the ache is sadness for what he wishes could have been.

Carol stirs a bit in his arms, turns her head and presses her lips sleepily to his bicep. It quells the ache and replaces it with something else. Fondness and maybe even love. It helps him settle himself back down and tamp down his miserable thoughts.

The quiet sounds reach his ears again and as he sleeps he figures that they’ll try and look for the group again soon. A few hours of resting will do him and Carol both good is what he tells himself.

But the reality of it is he just doesn’t want to let her go. Doesn’t want to let go of the peaceful moment that they’re in and is theirs alone.

Because he knows it’s as close to normal as they’ll be able to get in this hell on earth for a long time.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My mood music that inspired this? Is a loop of wind chimes and rain *nod nod* it was super relaxing.  
> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated!


End file.
